Dog Teeth
by NostalgicDemise
Summary: "I never really made friends easy, I wondered why he stuck around as long as he did. Now my only problem is getting him to go away." A Joker origin story, DARK THEMES - NOT A ROMANCE
1. Introduction

**_Dog Teeth_**

To say that he _wasn't always this way_ , would be a **complete** lie. I'd known him. Probably better than anyone, actually. How _unfortunate_ for _me_ , that is. Because he's _back_ , and I'm _still_ here, and now he'll have to get rid of his only _liability_ , the only _hole_ in his so called 'new' _identity_. He'll have to _come_ for _me_.

The so called ' _persona'_ people accuse him of, isn't _really_ that. He's not _hiding_ behind some mask. _He never has._ But, there was a time that he came _pretty_ close. As close as he'd _ever_ get to faking - when he'd been _Jack,_ when he'd seemed 'normal.' It would only take a simple run in with him to realize that he was _anything_ but.

I'd gone to school with him, you see, and I had probably been the closest thing to a friend he'd ever known. Not that he had ever _wanted_ me there. Throughout our time in school together he'd treated me like an inconvenience, like a knife in his back that he couldn't quite reach to rip out. Jack never cared about anyone, not even himself. When we'd first met he had pretended pretty well, he played a good role of 'boy next door.' I'd been a foolish girl back then. Gullible.

I realize that now.

At the time I'd met Jack, we'd both been mere children. Walking into a _new_ school as a _new_ student had never been an easy task for me. As a young girl I was timid, unsure of myself, and hid it behind sarcasm, and biting words. At first glance he was just a regular kid, an outcast - _sure_ , but maybe just a quiet kid. He'd had me fooled, _like a wolf in sheep's skin_.

The day I'd entered the classroom, he'd caught my eye, and I felt the _exact_ moment I'd happened upon his. Jack's hair was one of the brightest blondes I'd ever seen, unruly curls draped over his narrowed eyes, and from the way his legs were cramped beneath the old school wooden desk, right off the bat, it was easy to tell he was pretty tall for his age.

Blushing, I'd adverted my eyes as soon as possible, as to not get caught staring, and accused of some _silly_ crush on the _first day_. The impulse was there though, I'd thought he was the most _beautiful_ thing I'd ever seen. If you'd asked me then, I would have said he looked like an _angel,_ from hispouting lips to his drowsy looking eyes. My face had burned a bright red as the teacher introduced me to the class, and I bit the inside of my cheeks bloody to keep from making a fool of myself in front of my new classmates. It was then that I felt his gaze burn holes into the side of my face.

The way I felt myself reacting was a _big_ red flag, but at the time I'd blamed it on my girlish _crush-at-first-sight_. Strawberry blonde hairs on the back of my neck prickled, along with my skin, the palms of my hands became clammy, and instead of my heart speeding up, I could have _swore_ that it stopped for a moment.

The only remaining vacant seat in the class was right beside him. I couldn't help but feel that that _meant_ something, because _what were_ _the odds?_ His gaze didn't waver, neither discouraging me, or beckoning me closer. The other children in the classroom had pinned me beneath their eyes, as well, hushed whispers behind chubby fingers, and fast paced fluttering of eyes, all directed toward _me_. The blank expression didn't leave his face, and I tried to make it a point _not_ to look at him too much, failing for the most part. I worried he could hear the _pitter patter_ of my heart, beating as quick as a monarch's wings beneath my shirt. The teacher continued on with the lesson, but I wasn't listening, and had a pretty good feeling _he_ wasn't either, because his eyes hadn't flickered away from me _once_.

I wondered if he thought he was being subtle about it with his side eye stare. Either way, it made a kind of pride swell in my chest, that this boy - _as lovely as he was_ \- would be looking at _me_. I twirled a lock of my hair between my fingertips, and watched as his twitched on top of his graffiti-littered desk, like the appendage was jealous that it wasn't in mine's place - all he had to do was ask, I'd let him in a heartbeat.

I became enamored rather quickly. My momma' always said that the loneliest people latched onto what they could, good, or bad, that they found beauty in the _ugliest_ things - whether that _ugly_ was on the inside, or not. So, I thought _maybe_ , it was possible that _I_ had done that, but there was _no way_ he wasn't lonely, too. Only, I hadn't thought _'how can someone be lonely when they've never known anything but loneliness?'_ Momma' didn't tell me that in order for that loneliness to be requited, I had to find someone that was _actually lonely_ , not _empty_.

Not a walking dead man.

It hadn't been possible to _know_ that at the time, of course, I'd been _nine_ years old, but I would've been _much_ better off with my loneliness. My solitude. Instead, I decided to stare back. He didn't notice until he caught me, for the _third_ day. . . in a _row._ I _knew_ he could feel it, at first he would get twitchy, though his face remained frozen, in its icy blank state. He was observant, aware, it seemed his only problem was figuring out _why I_ was staring. I made it quite clear when I began following him around. _Normally_ , I wouldn't _dare_. But, skipping behind him in my red checkered dress, heading in the opposite direction of the populated playground had felt _right_ , somehow.

I'd grown up on a farm, had lived there my entire life. I had never _had_ to worry about the dangers of people. Of course, every place in the world has _bad folk_ in it, but nothing much happened in the small town I'd grown up in. The worst thing that I had stumbled upon was figuring out I'd eaten a piece of _Darla_ , my favorite pig, for breakfast one morning. Although it had been heartbreaking, I was still naive to the cruelty of city life - _of city people_ \- and all that they _could_ do. _Would_ do. If I gave them the chance. The boy abruptly stopped in front of me, without my notice, and I crashed into his back, falling backwards on my bottom when he twisted around toward me, an angry snarl covering his face. When he caught sight of my quivering lip, and dirtied dress, the discontent twist of his mouth disappeared. He looked puzzled, and mildly uncomfortable, as I shakily wiped my dress off, and stood before him, my hands on my hips. " _Well?_ " I'd said with a sass, that I wouldn't _dare_ later on. He looked at me like I had three heads, mumbling something under his breath before turning to continue walking away. My hand tugging on the back of his t-shirt stopped him faster than I'd expected it to, and before I could back away he spun back, knocking my hand away harshly, it throbbed, and I had gasped, stepping back.

 _"Well?_ Well, _what?_ " I didn't say anything for a moment, amazed by the fact that he'd _finally_ spoken to my. The gruff, monotonous sound of his voice had caught my off guard. I'd never heard _anything_ like it, no boys my age sounded quite like _that_ , their voices were squeaky, like the sound of a knife against piano strings, _his_ was deep, hoarse, as though he hadn't spoken in days. Suddenly nervous I began to twirl my hair again, yanking at the strands. His hand twitched. I'd forgotten what we'd been talking about, unfamiliar with the anger in his dark, black-like eyes. They were mean eyes, sharp, merciless, they reminded my of daddy's when he'd had one too many beers, and momma' would say he was getting _too big for his britches_. Only when he turned, impatiently, and began walking away again did I speak up.

"You _tripped_ me! Momma's gonna' _kill_ me for coming home like this!" my tone was accusatory, but my eyes flashed anxiously when he scoffed at me, I realized I was being irrational - I'd been following _him_ , after all. To my surprise he didn't turn to leave again, just stood, and stared at me some more, as if he _hadn't_ gotten an eye full already. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hand-me-down jeans, they looked too lose on him to have actually been _bought_ like that. His shirt, and jacket were over sized as well, giving my the impression that it too had been given to him, from his dad, or brother. In fact, his entire wardrobe looked like it had been bummed off of someone _much_ older than him. Though that didn't bother me, I thought he looked _handsome_.

"Why're _you_ talking to _me_?" my head shot up, looking up at him as he spoke to my. I raised my eyebrows, confused. His eyes narrowed further, and I almost backed up against the brick wall of the school as he stalked toward me, but he wasn't overbearing with his stride. "One of those assholes paying you? _Huh_ , that it? Getting a _kick_ out of a pretty girl like _you_ pretending to waste my time on _me_?" If I blushed anymore I'd be likely to actually _become_ a tomato. He seemed even more perplexed as a smile spread across my face, bashfully.

"Ya' think I'm pretty?"

He let out a snort, and rolled his eyes away, but nodded, nonetheless. "Yeah, you're…uh, you're _okay_." I'd never had a _boy_ tell me such things so blatantly to my face before, and found I couldn't look at him anymore without the hot flush across my cheeks burning further. 'You're _okay_.' Meant a lot more to me than _he'd_ meant for it to. He worried the fabric of his jeans, and I traced patterns into the dirt beneath my sneakers. When I finally did look up, he was staring directly at me, like he couldn't understand my presence, couldn't imagine I was _real_. I smiled, as wide, and bright as I could, just like momma' said boys my age liked, and shoved my hand toward him to take in his own. He seemed caught off guard for a moment, I'd probably looked like some kind of rabid dog baring its teeth at him.

"My name's Adina, but lots a' people just call me _Adi_." It took a few moments for him to blink, or even breathe, I'd thought with a giggle. But, sure enough, his hand swallowed mine with its size, as he tenderly shook it, as though not to break me. It made me feel special to be touched like that. I can remember thinking, ' _he's one of the gentlest boys, I've ever met._ " Silly me.

"Jack." He offered to me, as though it were an after thought, "You were _following_ me." The curls against his forehead followed his movement when he turned to me, his eyes were narrowed in suspicion, and then he snatched his hand away, sliding it back into his pocket. I hadn't planned on him calling me out for it, I'd spent every other moment in school for the past three days by his side, and he'd never said a word, until now, only when we had evaded the teacher's watchful eyes. " _Why?_ " Everything about him seemed so soft, compliant, I hadn't expected the hostility his voice held toward me, my vocal cords had apparently decided to go on vacation, and evade me the moment I needed them most. I shrugged, the movement quick, and jerky, hoping he wouldn't continue his interrogation. The hand he'd retracted before came back into view, and wrapped itself around my forearm, just above my elbow, and squeezed. A gasp escaped my throat, but all I could manage was a broken apology, shaky as it left my trembling lips. I'd never gotten into any physical argument before, so I wasn't sure what to do when his grip didn't cease, only stood there as his eyes searched my watering ones, crowding in on myself, and waiting for him to let go.

The pressure of his fingernails felt like they were tearing into my skin, his bony fingers indenting the pale skin of my arm, and leaving dotted specks of red in their path. I didn't look away, hoped that maybe if I stared back then he would release me, I don't know what he'd been looking for, but he seemed to find it, his eyes dancing in glee until they softened. He drew me closer, I ducked my head but his voice was right in my ear, mockingly comforting, _something_ about that voice had me hiding my face against his arm, seeking _more_. His fingertips gripped my chin until I was looking up at him, tear stained cheeks, red, and puffy, with my lips quivering. Jack's eyes practically drank in my features, scanning every inch, but his thumbs were wiping the tears from my eyes, and his pouting mouth was pursed, short little comforting phrases leaving it. It was clear that he didn't mean any of it, that he wasn't sorry, and didn't regret a single thing he'd done to me, but _something_ about the way he did it had me nodding my head, and crowding closer, willing to take anything he'd give me.

I heard his snicker, muffled into my hair as I pressed my face into his shirt, he let me stay there for a few minutes, steadying my breath, gathering myself, until he pulled me away, a deep sigh exiting his mouth when he grabs my arm, a soft guilty expression in his chocolaty brown eyes. "What're we gonna' _do_ about _this_." He asked inquisitively his eyebrows were furrowed as he stared down at the shallow welts in my arm from his nails, surrounded by purpling bruises left by the tips of his fingers. He traced them, connecting the prints like a constellation. When I looked up there was something in his eyes, so protective, and guilty, I shuddered, covering the marking with my other hand. Instead of running, or crying to a teacher I stood, looking around apprehensively, occasionally glancing down at my sneakers before looking back up at him shyly.

"We… Well, _I_ could just put a jacket on, that way nobody sees. I mean… it _was_ an accident _right_?" I had managed to stutter out, watching him as he blinked and then nodded his head, shaggy hair bouncing against his neck, and forehead. It _was_ an accident, I decided. He hadn't _meant_ to grab me so hard, he had just gotten scared - he _had_ said he wasn't used to being around people, maybe he'd thought that I was gonna' hurt _him_. I nodded to myself, and watched as he shrugged his big jacket off his shoulders, before wrapping it around me snuggly. The long sleeves were a bit suffocating in the heat of August, but it was for the best people didn't see my bruises, they wouldn't understand that Jack hadn't meant to, and then he'd get into trouble. _And I didn't want my new friend to get yelled at._

"So, where were ya' going?" I tried to break the silence, holding the jacket together with my hand, and tilting my head at him, my curiously peaked. My shoulders dropped when he shrugged, kicking at the grass with his shoe, like a deflating balloon. I bit my lip, standing, staring blankly at him for a few seconds, before turning on my heel to walk away, feeling rejected. He cleared his throat stopping me in my tracks, my foot skidded on the ground to a halt, and I turned excitedly awaiting his words. Jack jerked his head in the direction he'd been walking in before, gruffly mumbling to me a brief.

"C'mon, I'll show you." I followed behind him obediently, smiling wide, gapped front teeth masking the ghost of my tears.


	2. 2

**Here I am, at home, just watching reruns of The Office, when I realize... I could be writing right now! So, here it is!**

* * *

I can usually admit when I've done something wrong, or been mistaken, in fact most of the time I blame myself anyhow, beat myself up over the inevitable happening. I figure that's why it was so easy to disregard Jack's actions, his rudeness, or foul moods as something that _could_ have been avoided if I'd simply _not_ done _this_ , or _that_. I'd given him the benefit of the doubt each time he turned a situation around on me, and eventually, without even needing his knife like eyes to be turned in my direction, I started to blame myself. _Stop_ reacting that way, make sure _not_ to accidentally trip again, _don't_ make that face, _quit_ pronouncing the word that way, _try_ not to cry when Jack says something mean - he can't _help_ it. _Never_ say no, speak _only_ when spoken to, why are you _looking_ at him that way? He doesn't _like_ it. _Don't_ make too much eye contact, Jack _hates_ it when you stare, _stupid_. Did you just _look_ at that other boy, there's _no way_ Jack didn't see, he's going to be _so_ angry that you did that.

I would be a liar if I said I didn't still struggle with that every now and then, telling when people were in the wrong or if I was just being ignorant. But, my point is, I gave him an easy string to pull, and he tugged at me until I became nothing but a little marionette to echo his every demand. I'm still not even sure when that really started, maybe it'd been there since the beginning-

 _"D'ya think they'll notice?"_

I'd glanced over my shoulder anxiously toward the school house that was barely visible through the mass of trees we'd passed, as Jack's muffled scoff answered me, I turned back just in time to see his shoulders jerk in a stiff shrug. Briefly my girlish mind questioned if I should be following the boy I'd _just_ met into the _forest_ behind the school by _myself._ But, as he'd turned to meet my eyes I had practically swooned, shoved any negative thought of him from my mind in a haste, as though he could see what I was thinking.

" _Maybe_ , but who cares?" My stomach dropped, a nervous feeling curling in my gut. I tried not to let it show on my face much, I didn't want Jack thinking I was some _dweeb_. I could tell the moment I'd failed my mission to keep my expression blank under his serious gaze, his lips curved from their natural frown into a deeper one, and his brows furrowed under the curly blonde locks. My hands curled around one another, fidgeting and picking at the flesh around my fingernails, drawn rigidly in front of me. The woods around us were quiet for a good moment, a bird somewhere far off was chirping cheerfully contradicting the nerve wrecking situation I'd found myself in. When I'd looked up, Jack had been stuffing his fists roughly into the pockets of his faded, dingy jeans. A loud sigh escaped him, and I'd nearly jumped back at the sudden noise, it made sense that I had expected him to yell or make fun of me. His eyes skipped toward mine again, seemingly dancing with their doe brown glowing hues, reflecting the patches of sunlight that escaped through the tree's leafs.

"Well, _let's see_ , it's your first day, and frankly, _nobody_ is used to having you _lingering_ about." This time when he had shrugged it seemed much more nonchalant. "So, _more_ than _likely_ they won't even _notice_ you're _gone_." After his words registered, and I'd stopped memorizing the way his eyes were sparkling mischievously, I had nodded hesitantly, his words had seemed to have worked their magic, but then-

"What about _you_?"

His head tilted to the side, like he didn't understand the question, but I _knew_ there was no way his hadn't. Jack didn't answer right away, instead squinting his near black eyes down at me like he was trying to figure out just _what_ exactly _I_ was. The searching gaze softened, flickering between my eyes, almost widening a bit with wonder. He shook off the look quick, his lip had lifted into a sly smirk, a hand reached out to flick my nose teasingly. "They won't _notice_." He turned and began to walk deeper into the forest.

 _But how do you know, Jack?_

"They just won't." He snapped as though I had spoken out loud, his head cutting toward me before he continued trudging forward, and I'd nearly been convinced that he _could_ read minds.

 _I sure would notice, Jack. I promise._

* * *

He took me to a place that felt like home.

There were no walls, or rooms, no comfy furniture to lounge about. There was only the forest, and the pleasant breeze, and a creaky little rusty tire swing that had seen better days. There was only the trees, and knee length grass, and chirping birds, and the presence of Jack beside me. But, nowhere-no one-had welcomed me so warmly before, so completely that I could feel a peacefulness in my chest like the warmth of my momma's hugs, or the caress of my papa's big hand covering mine. Honestly, I couldn't tell you what about the place was so special, and truly it was probably just my young girlish mind overworking itself. But, I hadn't felt something so _calm_ in so long, I wondered how Jack had found such a place, so insignificant, so desolate, and lonely…

And _why_ he'd decided to share it with some _girl_ like me.

I was tempted to voice these questions, to break the silence, but one look at Jack, and I knew, whatever this place was, it was special to him. That silence buzzing around in the air, snapping, and crackling in my mind, it was something he could feel too, and he needed it, probably more than I ever would. So, right then, and there I decided that this would continue to be a place of quiet, of peace for Jack. It wouldn't be spoiled by my mindless questions that he wouldn't answer anyhow, for _now_ I'd simply let it be.

Jack grabbed my arm, and tugged me toward the ancient looking swing with a lazy tilt of his head. I followed blindly, a smile dimpling my cheeks.

* * *

"So, do ya' like my dress? It's my absolute _favorite_ , momma' bought it fo-," Jack's dull voice cut over mine with ease.

"It just looks like a frilly picnic blanket to me." When I paused, my feet had stumbled helplessly through the tall grass. Both he, and I were making our way back to the school. My forehead tensed with my childish confusion, and embarrassment as I looked down at my red, and white checkered dress, with lacy ruffles on the trim. When Jack stopped, I could feel his gaze burn into me, he'd twisted toward me, seemingly mid-stride, one of his long legs was lazily positioned in front of him, like _I'd_ disrupted _his_ trek back to the school with my offense. I gazed up at him through my bangs, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and my bottom lip jutted out at its own accord.

Jack blinked at me, his narrowed eyes widening in faux confusion, " _Ah_ , was it something I _said_?" He cringed, barring his teeth, before his face broke into a smirk, and he just shook his head at me, the blonde curls on his brow bounced with the movement. "Don't be like _that_ , Adi, I never said I _didn't like_ picnics now, _did I?_ " Jack tilted his head, his dark eyes roamed my face for my reaction, like he'd been waiting to see if he'd said the correct thing.

"...Well, do ya'?" I crossed my arms behind my back, swaying nervously on my feet.

"Do I?…" Jack searched the empty air of the forest around him, as though the answer would present itself, and it seemed to. "Of _course_ , I do. Picnics remind me of the Summertime, and the summertime makes me…" Jack chewed the inside of his cheek, blanking out for a moment, before meeting my eyes again, " _Happy_. The Summertime makes me happy." He seemed to go over the information he'd just shared with me in his head a few times before turning back toward the direction of the school, and continuing. With a lighter feeling in my chest, I ran to catch up, catching myself from stumbling over several times along the way.

* * *

"How're we supposed ta' get _back_ inside?" I ground my foot into the cement beneath me, my arms crossing tightly, as my heart thudded erratically in my chest from anxiety. While Jack _had_ been right about going unnoticed, we'd both gotten back too late, and the school day had already ended. The only way _back inside_ for our bags, was the cracked window, _which_ was too tall for me to climb into, _which meant_ I needed Jack to lift me up. Of course, he made his distaste to even the idea of touching me _very_ known. The disgust in his dark brown eyes curled his nose into a snarl that had my throat feel choked with unshed tears. Some _boy_ I'd just met not wanting to touch me shouldn't have hurt my feelings so terribly bad, but there was something about _Jack_. I _wanted_ him to like me, _needed_ him to want me around.

Despite his reluctance Jack helped me slip through the window, and pulled himself up with ease only moments later. Jack seemed to be all elegance, and grace, and I knew that beside him, I would look like a newborn deer trying to stand on its lanky legs, but I didn't care. He was like an angel, the darkest eyes, and brightest hair of gold.

I slipped my bag over my shoulders, and twirled my hair between my fingertips as he moved around the room. Without truly helping it, my eyes relentlessly glanced over toward him as he collected his belongings from the desk beside mine. Jack guided me out through the door, his hand steering me lightly by the handle of my bag.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading3 review, and favorite!**


	3. 3

**_I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS STORY!_**

 ** _It's been a while since I've genuinely wanted to sit down just to write, and this story has brought that feeling back._**

 ** _Make sure to leave a review, and add this story to your favorites so you'll know when it's updated! xxx_**

* * *

"What's your favorite color?" I tilted my head to the side, my hands laced themselves together behind my back. When Jack didn't answer at first I thought he was just ignoring me, but his eyes were focused on the big oak tree beside us as he moved to pluck a dying leaf from one of the taller branches that I would _never_ have a chance at reaching. The leaf he had grabbed was a dark orangey-red, like the color of muddy blood. At first, I didn't know how to feel about it, but when he looked over, and offered it to me I smiled so wide it hurt.

"Really? Mine too!" It was cheesy, and stupid, but the moment he handed me that rotting leaf. It _had_ become my favorite color-it wasn't a lie. Not _really_ , at least.

It'd been a few months since I had first met Jack, probably heading into October as the leafs were beginning to fall, and the air had been getting chilly. I remember he'd let me keep his big, heavy denim jacket, and then, sometimes, when I rambled to him, he _wouldn't_ tell me to shut up. So, all in all, he was the best friend I'd ever had up until that point. I was _head over heels_ for the boy.

Jack just looked at me, his head cocked to the side like he couldn't figure me out, " _Right_." He'd said before he began to walk to in the opposite direction, seemingly unbothered by the tall weeds of grass he had to cut through.

I had paused for a moment and watched him retreat, until my lip began to quiver at the thought of being alone without Jack to walk me home. Then I'd rushed after him, gripping the straps on my backpack for something to hold on to. " _Hey_ , wait up!"

* * *

"Are y'sure you want this color, Adi?" He was looking between me and the bucket of bright, cherry red paint in my hands, but I'd just smiled giddily up at him. My dad and I had never had a close relationship, and even though I'd only been in elementary at the time, I'd known it was unlikely one would ever develop. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't for lack of trying on my part, and I couldn't necessarily blame him, either.

I believe it was more of the fact that our personalities just didn't really mix well. He'd always been rather brash, and off putting, he wasn't the kind of man to sit by and let people take him for a fool-and he definitely wasn't afraid of confrontation. I'd like to say over the years I've grown more like him, but as a girl I'd been overly sensitive, I felt things too much. Momma' always said I had an aching heart, that no matter what someone did _to_ me, _for_ me, I'd find a way to simultaneously forgive them and over analyze their actions, and words, I'd push, and push 'til they left _because_ of all my aching.

I can't say she was wrong, but, Momma' was kind of a bitch.

"Yessir." He spent our last twenty dollar bill on that bucket of paint, and that was that.

* * *

My dad's name was Travis, he'd grown up on a farm and had pretty much lived for that little plot of land until he stumbled upon my ma'. Sometimes, when she was in the mood and we had the time to sit together, just to talk, she'd tell me about how dad might as well have had doodled some hearts on his face when he'd introduced himself to her. It was like some cookie cutter mix between a Hallmark, and Lifetime film. I'd always thought my life would be the same;meet a childhood sweetheart, and run the old farm together until _our_ kids took over.

For a little girl it was quite appealing, what child didn't want to be like their parents? But, that would never happen. It felt like a daze, the moment we lost the farm, our home. One day I was brushing the horses in the barn, the next we were packing up our car and heading off. Ma' just got real sick, and dad found a job in the city. Gotham city. It didn't get us far, nothing more than a small apartment building that was just short of being condemned.

That didn't stop us from being a family, though. Ma' still managed to spruce up the place with bright flowers, and home cooked meals. Dad worked day and night to keep it that way; a roof over our heads. Back then, I just kept out of the way like I always had.

I'd been an awfully lonely little girl.

* * *

"It's, uh… very," My dad's tongue clicked the roof of his mouth as he tried to find a word that wouldn't upset me, finally he settled with the bland reply of, " _red_." The stiff bristled brush clanked against the dented lid of the paint can as he'd dropped it down, and brought a crimson coated arm up to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

" _Yeah_." I gushed, my cheeks had probably matched the color of my walls at that point, from both happiness and the heat that had seeped through the broken window of the closet-sized room. My dad managed a tight smile in response to my excitement, and I'd launched myself into his arms before I could think to stop myself.

I have to give him credit, my father had never been overwhelmingly affectionate to anyone but my ma' and he'd allowed me to hang onto him for a few seconds before prying me off.

"That'll be enough now, Adi." I'd nodded quietly when he looked down his nose at me and had backed off further when he had gestured toward the door.

"Gotta' go check up on yer' ma'." _And that was that_.

* * *

"I like your hair better in the Fall."

I'd been wondering why he was staring at me, but in that moment I had learned Jack had a clipped patience for things he didn't want to talk about, so it was better just not to ask him. Better to wait for him to come to me. Even if my anxiety _had_ spiked for the better part of the day due to dark eyes burning holes into the side of my head. At first, I wasn't sure what he'd meant by what he said. I'd tilted my head in confusion and held my tongue. He had edged closer casually, in a way that only he could;with both nonchalance and grace, and had twirled a loose tendril between his fingers.

"I _mean_ ," The dark gaze seemed to ease away as he looked down at me, even as he stressed his words. "It gets… darker.. _redder_." Jack yanked the strand playfully, and laughed to himself when I cringed, shooting him a dirty look. "I like it."

I decided then, that I liked it better that way too.

* * *

"Who's that little boy you've been running around with, Adi?" Momma' had asked it nonchalantly enough, but even at my young age I'd known where the conversation was headed.

I was leaning through the window, my head halfway out, standing on my tip toes so I could reach the potted plants hanging from the edge. I mumbled a dazed, "Nobody Momma'." into the air, breezily.

"Why Adina Ray! Are you _lying_ to your ma'!?" I'd already known that if I'd turned around I'd have seen her just as I'd been picturing her in my head, her hands on her hips, a scowl darkening her face.

" _No_ ma'am, Momma' he's _just_ a friend I met at school." I'd shrugged my shoulders, hoping she wouldn't notice my knees were shaking nervously.

"A _friend_ , huh? I ain't never _known_ you to be making any _boys_ for friends." Luckily, the wilted roses kept my gaze busy when, before, it might have wavered from her tone. I'd known _exactly_ what she had meant. I hadn't had many friends before, _at all_ , really. So, the fact that I had snagged Jack up so easily _was_ a bit suspicious. "Well, then. I guess you won't mind me inviting him in for dinner when he drops ya' off here tomorrow?"

I'd opened my mouth to object, but there was no use. I couldn't _argue_ with Momma'.

* * *

"Maybe we should just stop here today, Jack." I'd stopped abruptly, eyeing the ground, and scuffing the dirt with my shoe. The air was just getting colder, and colder, it didn't help my clammy hands, or the darkening flush on my cheeks. Jack had turned toward me, his eyebrows raised, and ever present glare-present.

"Uh… _Why_?" His voice had seemed so harsh against the quiet air, and I sucked in a breath that stung my teeth to calm my nerves. The leafs on the ground had doubled in size, winter was only a few days away;I hated the cold. I hated confrontation.

Jack waited, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans, and sighing his impatience.

" _Well_ , Ad?" I could tell he'd had enough, the rage he stored away had been building up for days, it was simpering over the edge, waiting to overflow.

I knew he'd reached the boiling point when a growl ripped through his throat, from somewhere within his chest. I'd jumped, squeaking when his hand wrapped around my forearm and tugged me along.

It was actually a bit surprising, that his grip wasn't painful;that he was still controlling himself better than he had when we'd first met. It'd only been months, but Jack hadn't bruised me again, only glared, and snarled his disapproval. I was thankful.

Jack guided me along the sidewalk, and had only released me when he was sure I would continue our shared pace on my own. I wanted to warn him, I didn't want him to hate me-but, I couldn't get the words out. My mouth wouldn't open, and my breath stuttered independently.

Save for the few glances he shot my way, Jack didn't say anything about my odd behavior again.

When we finally reached my apartment building I shuffled on my feet instead of looking up, and I knew was already too late when I heard the metal shrill of the window scraping open. My Momma's head appeared in the window, just above Jack and I, a charming smile distorting her features.

"Well, hey there you two! Adi, be a doll and invite your little friend up for dinner, will you?" If I'd been embarrassed by my blush before, then at that point I must have been mortified. My Ma's grand exit matched her arrival exactly;with the deafening scrape of a metal window. I remember shaking, from the chill of the air and the anticipation of Jack's words, but the last thing I had really expected was a fitting smirk to cross his face. Which happens to be exactly what I got.

"Yeah, _doll_. Aren't you going to _invite_ me in?"


End file.
